Butterflies
by fictionalwritings09
Summary: It was over. Lord Barkis Bittern is defeated. Victor and Victoria are reunited. All is right with the world. But what of sweet Emily? Hear some of her thoughts as she ends her tale on a soft, quiet note. (Prelude)


**FW09: While still brainstorming for some of my other fics (yes, fics as in plural, there's a lot going on in my Doc Manager, LOL), I found out Netflix released Corpse Bride for streaming, and fell in love with the story all over again. Random jazz segments and literally magic plot holes aside, it was a great romantic movie with a lot of unexplored mysticism, and I always wanted to write fanfiction for it.**

 **And the moment I finished watching the movie, I got a small idea for it. Just a little one, which led to this fic. However, that idea also led to another story-line, which I'm hoping will be up shortly after this one, but we'll just have to see about this one first.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Corpse Bride or the characters, that would be the wonderful and my all-time favorite gothic comedy/romance director, Tim Burton.**

* * *

 **Butterflies**

 _'Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.'_

Perhaps, Emily thought, perhaps.

She watched as her former lover, Barkis Bittern, was dragged away to the Land of the Dead (Downstairs, as it was affectionately called), his blue complexion and yellowed eyes terrified. His last words uttered were his damnation, but how was he to know that the Corpse Bride would be so beloved by her fellow dead? She drew breath into her hollow cheeks and sighed, unable to taste the cold oxygen nor feel the air pass through her chest and out her exposed ribs.

Was it too ironic that she was tired of her eternal slumber?

Emily was roused from her thoughts by the sound of a bottle and a stopper, and her dead eyes rose to look at Elder Gutknecht removing the Wine of Ages from the pedestal. He looked back at her in kind, and smiled that little grin that he always sported. He was like the grandfather she never had, and he always spoiled her rotten...no pun intended. Then, her eyes drifted over the pair of lovers in front of her, too absorbed in one another to notice.

Victor and Victoria. The Corpse Bride gave a little sad giggle, sighing as another tear dripped down her face. Even their names matched.

She never had a chance...did she?

Amidst the playful piano duet (or should she say 'duel'?) and exchanging of wedding gifts, she thought that they might've had something. Yet, it was all for naught when she saw Victoria, so beautiful and dressed in white. That was what Emily had wanted for herself all those years ago, when Barkis had charmed her. And despite the fleeting moments and flirting, she knew that marrying Victor for her own was not right - now when Victoria looked at him so.

With a wistful look at the both of them, she turned away to walk towards the church doors, her precious wedding bouquet in her hands and her heels clacking against the stone floor delicately. This caught the attention of the pair, and Victor broke away from Victoria reluctantly. When he approached her, however, Emily stated simply that Victor's own willingness to give his life to marry her had been more than enough. She would never have asked him to, bless his sweet heart, and her curse had her waiting for a man so cruel and foul that he'd murdered her in cold blood for her fortune.

No. No more. She'd had enough. Lord Barkis Bittern was not worth her time, or energy, and any desire she had towards him - love or rage - was spent.

It was time to finally move on.

With bated breath, the living watched her flow down the aisle, back the way she'd come. Her form glowed a soft radiant blue, and her clothes floated in ethereal and ghostly waves. Years later, as they told stories of her, they would say that even as a former shadow of herself, the Corpse Bride was breathtakingly striking.

And upon reaching the doors, she threw her bouquet - as if she had been the one to marry, rather than Victoria. She giggled when she heard a little shriek, seeing Maggot terrorizing yet another living human, and then looked to the moon.

Oh how she loved the moonlight. There was no such thing Downstairs, and yet another reason not to go back.

Emily sighed again as she let go of the things holding her to the Land of the Dead and the Land of the Living - her friends Downstairs, Lord Barkis Bittern, the moonlight and the night stars...and Victor. The emptiness she felt was strange and a little frightening, but for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. It flowed through her body like new blood, coursing and rushing, pumping through dead veins and over dry bone. Little by little, her consciousness dissipated into the night air, flying towards the moon and all its lunar wonder.

Emily was _free_.

* * *

"What's happened to her?"

Victoria broke the silence shortly after Emily had transformed into a swarm of bright blue butterflies. Victor had a similar curiosity about the matter, though his hold on Victoria's shoulder never lessened.

"She is at peace. She'll not be returning to this Land nor the next," Elder Gutknecht replied, and prepared himself to return to the Land of the Dead. Everyone else had returned, with that murderous cur in tow, and save for Maggot, he was the last one left. Now what was the word again? Oh yes...

"Hop - "

"What do you mean, 'not returning to this Land or the next'?"

This question came from Victor, who had been Downstairs and confused as to how Emily could not exist in either place. The old skeleton sighed, scratching his cracked skull as he wracked his brain (or what remained) for a way to explain.

"I mean...as herself," Gutknecht raised one hand and drew a large circle in the air, "She has let go of all earthly things that bound her to the Lands of Living and Death, and forfeited her soul to the Cycle once more. Emily will no longer be 'Emily', and she will be reborn into the Land of Living anew."

"Butterflies...mean rebirth," Victor mumbled in remembrance, and looked back at the swarm of butterflies in realization. One of them flew back towards him, and it perched on his should for a moment before flitting towards the Elder.

"So...even when we die, we'll never see her again?" Victoria asked, and Victor couldn't make out whether she was sad or relieved.

"No...no, the 'Emily' we knew as the Corpse Bride is no more," Elder Gutknecht replied in a quiet voice, holding out a finger for the butterfly to land on, "She is...gone." The sadness in the Elder's voice was perhaps felt more than heard, and Victor felt a similar echo of grief in his heart. Though he loved Victoria, the friendship he found in Emily was rare and beautiful, as fleeting and fetching as the blue butterfly that seemed to remain despite the rest of Emily leaving. Their love of piano and music, of moonlit nights and animals (dead or living) - they had more in common than he'd realized.

If things had been different...if he'd met Emily when she was alive...

If, if, if.

Victor felt his hand being squeezed, and he looked down at it, almost half-expectant that he would find a skeletal hand on his, golden ring flashing in the candle light and a rotted blue sleeve gathered at the wrist. But no. It was a lovely, living, fleshy one instead, and one that belonged to his beloved Victoria. She sensed his thoughts, and sought to bring him back to her.

Victoria had felt the crushing despair of losing him once. She was too much in love with him to let him go now, dead woman or not.

But Victor merely smiled at her, reassuring her with warmth and comfort. Victoria worried for nothing. He was hers, just as she was his.

And all the while, Elder Gutknecht and the blue butterfly watched on.

"...You did the right thing, Emily," the old bones whispered to the insect, "And I wish you happiness in your next life. You deserve it. More than anyone else."

With the last of the well wishes said, the butterfly took flight - flying past the astounded living members of Victoria's family, and the overturned benches of the fight from before. It weaved through candles and danced along the stone pillars. Finally, it flew past Victoria and Victor, and brushed its wings against the young man's cheek, like a kiss.

"...Goodbye, Emily," Victor spoke in soft words, touching his cheek tenderly.

And with that, the last of Emily's essence whisked itself out the door, and flew freely into the night.

* * *

 **FW09: Woohoo, short chapter accomplished! Now please note, this is at the very end of the movie, with a few added caveats to set up something that has been brewing in my mind since watching 'Corpse Bride' all over again.**

 **As always, if you liked what I wrote, please - leave a review letting me know if you did, or if I needed to improve anything. See you later guys, and look forward to another Corpse Bride story shortly!**


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